


this string is moving your bones

by wanderheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demonic Possession, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e20 Echo House, Future Fic, M/M, Nogitsune Stiles, Possessed Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1222774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderheart/pseuds/wanderheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek knows how Stiles moves intimately, there’s an energy there inside him that no one else has. It’s like watching static.<br/>When Derek’s with Stiles he feels like he’s breathing white noise. Now, Derek breathes and doesn’t feel anything.</p><p>The nogitsune moves with a stillness in its bones, a fluidity Stiles isn’t capable of.</p><p>“We’re going to kill you,” Derek grits out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this string is moving your bones

“You know, I could get out of this cell,” Derek comments to Chris under his breath, who is in the cell next to him. Chris only snorts, looks around the office, eyes lingering on the stray deputy left. “But you won’t. You’re no use to Scott as a fugitive.” 

“More useful than being stuck here,” Derek grumbles, looks at his hands. “You know if all of this is true, people are dead because of Stiles.”

“But is it really Stiles?” Chris throws back, looking at him through the bars, and they’re quiet again. 

They've been in the holding cells for what feels like ages, and they have no idea when they'll be released. The explosion at the sheriff's office shook it all up, literally and figuratively. Chris and Derek are hardly the priority right now. 

They settle in to wait.

 

“Deputy Parrish,” a voice calls as a door opens a bit later and a lean figure appears in the door opening. Chris and Derek right themselves the moment Stiles walks through. His heartbeat is steady in Derek's ears. It's the first time Derek actually has time to watch him since he came back. He's only seen Stiles once before, when the sheriff's office exploded. But they were in a rush then, and Derek had only seen the side of Stiles' face before he was gone again. Seeing him now, Derek can see the dark bruises under Stiles' eyes. His hair is wild like he's run his hands through it constantly. He's lost weight. Derek doesn't even have to try to spot the darkness hanging around Stiles like a cloud.

“Stiles?” Parrish says, seeming a little thrown, looking up from his paperwork. 

Stiles grins, manages to shrug and wave his hand at the same time while he approaches the deputy. He seems to fumble a little, trip on the carpet. It seems to be Stiles. “Hi, looks like you’re doing all right with the clean-up of this whole mess… excellent job on the bomb-thing by the way! Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents,” Stiles rambles, while Parrish rubs the back of his head and smiles. “Yes, well…” He trails off. “Figured I might as well put my certification to good use.”

“And to good use you put it,” Stiles cuts him off with a little grin. “Anyway, I thought I’d pop by and check on my pops, …he here?” He looks around. Deputy Parrish shakes his head, “He left a bit ago, got a phone call. You can wait for him if you want?”

“Are you sure? Looks like you got your hands full,” Stiles replies lightly, and finally throws a look at the holding cells, his eyes connecting with Derek’s. And it’s so close to the real thing, but Derek can feel it in his bones. Spotted it the moment Stiles walked in. It seemed to be Stiles. 

But it isn't.

“Well, it’s just me for now.” Parrish chuckles under his breath, gets up from his desk and walks around it to show Stiles the way to one of the unscathed offices. “Really?” Stiles asks, clearly. And then before the young deputy can set another step, Stiles throws his elbow down on the man’s neck with precision and he goes down like a sack of potatoes. For a moment, Stiles seems to just stare down at the lifeless body, then he rights himself and rolls his neck. 

Stiles turns around, sharp eyes tracing over the bars of the cell. Eyeing the two, the corner of his mouth lifts, but he’s not smiling. It’s this… smirk, that’s all wrong on Stiles’ face. Derek stands up to full height, clutches the bars so tightly he can feel them shriek under his hands. Chris is glaring with all his might in the cell next to him. “Nogitsune.” He states. “You’re not Stilinski.”

“No,” Stiles says, slowly. Rolling the word around in his mouth while he tilts his head, something reptilian about it. Up close, Derek can see black veins curling up Stiles’ neck, stopping just under his chin. 

“I suppose I’m not.” Stiles continues. And then, a giggle that sends shivers down both their spines escapes from Stiles’ throat. Bubbles up and hangs in the room. 

“Chris Argent and Derek Hale,” Stiles muses, shifting closer to the cells, his body movements a smooth wave, like the usual static that belongs to it has been drained out of it completely. Stiles pauses right before Chris, dark eyes searching.  
“First her mother, then her father… However will poor Allison go on?” He murmurs. But the grin on his face ruins the words, and Chris lunges, arms stretching out as Stiles takes a step back. He doesn’t seem threatened.

“We’re going to kill you,” Derek grits out, feeling the bars bend under his grip as he watches Chris’ rage. Stiles’ head snaps up, looking away from Chris as the grin slowly washes off his face. Stiles looks at Derek like he’s never seen him before, tilting his head slightly as he turns to face him. 

“Kill me?” Stiles wonders, his voice lilting dangerously as he moves forward. When he moves, it’s almost like a dance. Derek knows how Stiles moves intimately, there’s an energy there inside him that no one else has. It’s like watching static. When Derek’s with Stiles he feels like he’s breathing white noise. Now, Derek breathes and doesn’t feel anything. The nogitsune moves with a stillness in its bones, a fluidity Stiles isn’t capable of.

The thing that’s holding Stiles hostage preys forward and leans in close, so close, its lips are inches away from Derek’s. And then Stiles’ hands wrap around Derek’s, moving so quickly Derek doesn’t see them until it’s too late. Until Stiles’ cold hands start to turn Derek’s black where they’re wrapped around pure steel. Dark veins start to crawl up his arms and Derek feels his knees start to shake, black spots dancing in his vision as the air is pulled from his lungs. 

“Skinny…” Stiles murmurs, calmly, inching closer and Derek’s trying to keep the gasp in, but it floods out of him, the pain everywhere in his body. “Defenseless…” Stiles continues, squeezing harder and the bars stop bending, Derek’s fingers curling around them uselessly. “Stiles.”  
And then Stiles steps away, lets go of Derek entirely, leaving him to lean on the bars, gasping for air, sucking in everything he can get. He can feel Chris’ eyes on him, trying to help him up but he’s too far away to reach. 

They can’t help each other.

Stiles breathes in sharply through his nose, looking paler than before. His skin looks like it’s made of wax, while his eyes are closed for just a moment. But then he opens them and his irises are almost black. He throws an almost triumphant look at Chris, whose jaw is clenched tight. “He’s screaming, you know,” He says, conversationally and his lips are shaking as he raises a hand and taps a finger on his temple. "In here." Then, like they’ve won a battle, his lips finally stretch into a broad grin. It looks wrong, feels wrong, like something’s taken a puzzle Derek knows so well, cracked it and put it back together all out of order. Hit the pieces long enough until they fit. Derek’s horrified.

Stiles leans in, as if he’s telling them a secret. “He’s screaming because he knows what I can do. He knows what we can do _together_.”

“We’re getting you out, Stiles,” Derek interrupts him, looks into the eyes he knows so well. “You just need to hold on.” 

Stiles cackles, loudly. A scratchy sound that goes straight down Derek’s spine.

“No, see, you’re wrong,” Stiles says eventually, laughter still clear in his voice as he steps back, pointing at Derek. His hand is shaking again. The change is almost imperceptible, but Derek sees. Once in a while, there’s a struggle inside Stiles, a momentary loss of control. 

“You can’t stop us.”

“I can try,” Derek growls, feels the bones in his face shift. Feels the fangs when he talks. “You can’t have him.”

Stiles laughs again, more controlled this time. A little less manic, but still sharp to Derek’s ears. “How _frustrating_ it must be for you…” He teases. “All that power, and you still can’t hurt me…Because hurting me, would hurt poor little Stiles, and that’s the last thing you want, right, Derek?” He grins triumphantly for a moment, looks at Derek’s icy blue eyes, before the humor slips from his face. 

“I’m going to kill all of them,” Stiles says, matter-of-factly, tapping his bottom lip with a finger. “But I’ll tell you what,” and suddenly he’s close, closer than he was before, long hands wrapped around the bars as he looks into Derek’s eyes. “…I’ll save you for last.” 

With a grin so wide it’s shaking, Stiles slowly starts moving backward. Back to the door. Back to where he came from. But before he vanishes through the opening, he points a finger at Derek. “I’ll save you for last,” he says again. Derek breathes the words in, they taste like a promise. 

“And I’ll make him watch.”

And then, with a final curl of his lips, the nogitsune is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i know this definitely won't happen in the show, considering the whole eichen house thing but OH WELL.


End file.
